


Bound

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>like a fuse that cannot reach its charge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[**nolivingman**](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/) for beta duty. Originally written for the [](http://aos-challenge.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://aos-challenge.livejournal.com/)**aos_challenge** prompt: "Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down" - Queues
> 
> Originally posted 4-1-07

Archie watches from the bed as Edrington’s fingers run through his hair, tugging it back into a sleek tail before he reaches for the black ribbon on the dressing table. Archie’s own hair tumbles to his shoulders as he shifts, resting his head on his wrist as he watches the hypnotizing motion of Edrington’s fingers winding the ribbon tightly.

“You lie there like a debauched angel, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Thoroughly debauched, my Lord,” Archie assures him with a smile, running a hand down his bare chest to where the silken covers lay pooled at his waist. He lays back on the bed, his hand slipping down beneath the covers, curving around his shaft, his head still turned to hold Edrington’s eyes. “Though not against undergoing the process again.”

“You are incorrigible, Mr. Kennedy, and it is a wonder that Captain Pellew has not found more reasons than one to flog you senseless.” He stands and moves back to the bed, his breeches unbuttoned and loose on his hips. He rests one knee on the edge of the bed and leans in, his breath like a ghost on Archie’s skin. “But who could mar that skin, hmm?”

“You’d be surprised, my Lord.” Archie’s voice is breathless as he turns his head so that his parted lips are beneath Edrington’s, the slightest movement sending them into another kiss. “It seems to me your own mouth marred my skin most decidedly last evening.”

“Did it?” Edrington smiles and trails a hand down Archie’s stomach, following the path Archie’s own hand had blazed not long before. “I’m not sure I recall such a thing.”

“Do you not, my Lord?” Archie catches Edrington’s hand and guides it to the jut of his hip, the dark mark he knows is there, the pulse of his blood hotter in the wake of Edrington’s teeth and tongue. “Perhaps I should refresh your memory.”

Edrington’s fingers skate over the edges of the tender skin. He smiles faintly as Archie hisses in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Archie pushes against his hand, increasing the pressure against his own skin and moans slightly, biting his lower lip against the burn.

“I don’t believe myself capable of such things, Mr. Kennedy,” Edrington assures him in a rough voice, licking at the seam of Archie’s mouth with a quick tongue. “Surely you must be mistaken as to the source. Though I suppose I could investigate further.”

“I think, m-my Lord…” Archie’s hips angle off the bed as Edrington’s fingers press against the bruise once more. “I think that is a m-most…wise idea.”

“To intimate that I would do such a thing,” Edrington murmurs the words against Archie’s skin as he moves down, tasting his neck and collarbone, his tongue lashing across Archie’s nipple. “Really, Mr. Kennedy.” He shakes his head, the tail of his queue grazing Archie’s skin, sending another shiver through him. “I really find such things beneath you.”

“Am…beneath you, my Lord,” Archie reminds him, back arching as Edrington’s tongue continues downward, tracing Archie’s sternum to his abdomen, following the dark line of hair that disappears beneath the covers.

“I assure you, Mr. Kennedy, I’m well aware of that fact.” The curve of his smile feels burned into Archie’s skin, taking any sting of class or distinction from the words. “I would venture to say that I won’t be forgetting it any time soon, either.” He moves the covers away from Archie’s skin, pushing them down past his knees as he pauses to admire the curve of Archie’s cock. “Nor, do I think, will you.”

Archie inhales sharply, body thrusting up to meet the heated gaze of Edrington’s dark eyes. Edrington’s smile widens as he trails a finger down the hard flesh, reaching up with his free hand to unfasten the black ribbon he’d so painstakingly wound around his hair. Archie dares close his eyes for a moment then opens them again, watching in rapt fascination as blond hair tumbles free, bright against the binding strip.

Edrington moves further down the bed, bowing his head to flick his tongue across the head of Archie’s erection. “I would venture to say, in fact, that you’ll not forget any of this. What do you think…” He lets the ribbon pool on Archie’s stomach, just above the curve of his cock, then trails it down, winding it slowly around the hard flesh. “Mr. Kennedy?”

“M-my Lord,” Archie gasps as the ribbon draws tighter, Edrington’s sly smile disappearing to the side, to the bruise and faint indentations that darken Archie’s hip. He licks the mark, his tongue pressing against the skin. Archie’s hips roll upward in response, sparks of pain shooting along his nerves as Edrington’s teeth find flesh and bone beneath. “P-please, my L-Lord.”

“I find I’m not a sailor, Mr. Kennedy, and have no head for ropes or intricate knots.” Edrington pulls back, ghosting his fingers across the bruise, darkened blood red, to the ribbon now wound around Archie’s cock, black and tight halfway up his shaft. “Though this would seem to suffice, would it not?”

Archie reaches out, hand fisting in Edrington’s hair, a makeshift queue bound with his fingers as his hips jerk, hungry for the heat of Edrington’s mouth. Edrington’s low chuckle feathers over Archie’s hard, hot flesh, forcing a moan from between his lips that stutters and falls apart into silence as Edrington’s lips close over his cock.

Groaning low in his throat, Archie tightens his hand in Edrington’s hair as wet heat surrounds him, tongue and lips and the faint hint of teeth grazing his skin. He can feel Edrington’s fingers against him, knuckles pressed against Archie’s flesh as his fingers tug on the ribbon, making it tighter, the ribbed surface of the ribbon squeezing Archie’s shaft until all he can feel is the trapped pulsing of blood and need, Edrington’s tongue sliding over the swollen head.

“L-Lord…m-m-my Lord.” Archie shudders roughly, the tightness at the base of his cock blockaded by the ribbon, burning like a fuse unable to reach its charge. “Please…God.” Archie gasps desperately, body arched off the sheets in need.

The ribbon loosens and Archie groans, his hips jerking with release as he spills himself against Edrington’s tongue, words beyond his abilities. Edrington swallows him down, his tongue rough against the sensitized skin where the ribbon had pressed, the sudden, heady flow of blood making Archie dizzy.

Edrington pulls away and smiles, wicked and wanton as he crawls up Archie’s body, leaving his breeches behind like a shed skin. “I’m afraid, Mr. Kennedy. I see no evidence at all of any marks on your skin.”

“No?” Archie asks breathlessly as Edrington’s knees brush his thighs, as the glass bottle of oil clinks against the wooden table, as the warm oil and warmer fingers find his flesh. “My mistake then, m-my Lord.”

“Indeed, but is it a mistake you wish to learn from, Mr. Kennedy?” Edrington grins and teases Archie’s mouth again with a warm, salty kiss. “Or one you wish to make again?”  



End file.
